


Oliver the Gynaecologist

by Vixx2pointOh



Series: Oliver The ... [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Medical, Awkwardness, But it's still sexy, F/M, First Meetings, Humor, Meet-Cute, No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 10:43:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13500226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixx2pointOh/pseuds/Vixx2pointOh
Summary: What started as a broad shouldered knight helping a damsel in heels order a coffee from a cafe that didn't seem to understand the concept... became an adorable meet-cute...But...





	Oliver the Gynaecologist

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you find this as funny as I did...
> 
> Enjoy :)
> 
> Sorry for any medical inaccuracies (different countries and all) also I spelled it how I would, so you don't need to tell me it's spelled wrong, lol.

****

 

**[8:25am]**

It was crazy how insanely hot it was for early spring in Starling, not to mention the fact it wasn’t even 9am yet, but it really didn’t matter if Felicity lived in a bungalow in the centre of hell itself, no morning was complete without the largest cup of rich, creamy, slightly fluffy, perfectly simplistic coffee.

Okay, maybe simplistic wasn’t the word Felicity ought to use when describing her coffee order, but she had become so accustomed to it that it simply rolled off the tongue without a second thought and her usual coffee place _just got it._

After all it really wasn’t _that_ hard  
Large Triple, Half Sweet, Non-Fat, Caramel Macchiato – _extra hot._

Unfortunately Felicity wasn’t at her usual coffee joint and the barista was looking at her like she was speaking Klingon or something equally as out of this world foreign.

It was bad enough that she even had to be there that early in the morning, far away from the safety of her niche little coffee house that smelled like warm banana bread, a whole hour before her appointment next door, now she had to suffer through the judgmental look of someone who could pass for a high school student, and all without the sweet, sweet elixir of coffee.

No problem, she could adapt, as long as it had coffee in it, it would be fine.  
“Just a regular coffee, please.”  
_Please, please, please._

She was still met with the same expressionless face, only now it seemed to carry a hint of pity along with it.

“You just want a normal cup of coffee huh?” a husky voice with a cheery undertone asked beside her.  
Felicity tipped her head towards the voice, “yes please,” she answered, almost begging.

He was tall, her head only reaching his shoulders, and dressed head to toe in jogging gear. There was a warm smell of musk that was in no way unpleasant to her senses and his face had a dewy veil of someone who had actually _worked out_ in work out gear.

“Large?” he asked, engaging her with cloudless blue eyes.  
She nodded with an pleasant smile, “are there any other sizes?”  
His pillowy lips parted into a wide smile that was equal parts _Hollywood_ and genuine. A rare combination, verging on an oxymoron, and Felicity found that dangerously endearing.

She caught herself blushing and while she couldn’t stop the redness glowing on the apples of her cheeks, she could absolutely stop the giggle that was threatening to bubble up her throat.

_She was 28._  
_Twenty eight years olds don’t giggle._

He broke from the eye lock first when the barista coughed under his breath.

**~~~~~**

Oliver yanked his eyes back, he was staring and he knew it but there was next to nothing he could do about it until the annoyed cough beside them broke the trance.

When he had watched her scour the blackboards on the wall behind the counter trying in vain to make sense of a menu that refused to make any sense he remembered just how lost he had been when he started next door and ordered something that _even now_ he wasn’t sure what it was.

Despite being a coffee establishment he soon realised they actually didn’t like coffee here, they made a pretty good pomegranate smoothie, but coffee? It always came with a side order of disdain. Thankfully after someone at work took pity on him and presented him with the golden scroll on how to order coffee from the coffee house, he had been able to enjoy the smooth java ever since.

He flexed his neck to one side and rolled his shoulders, this was the coffee ordering Olympics.  
“Behemoth original java, non soya,” he turned to check the last part and, with her eyes expressively wide with anticipation, she nodded, “extra hot,” he added.  
She worked her lower lip through her teeth before she asked quietly, “with caramel?”  
“Two slides of caramel,” Oliver asked.  
When the barista nodded along, Oliver added one last request, “times two.”

She looked up at him with a quizzical smile that turned up one side of her fuchsia pink lips.  
Oliver offered her a playful half shrug, “it's a good order.”  
“Twelve sixty,” the monotone request came.  
Felicity went to pay but Oliver bet her to it.  
Perhaps the feminist in her should have argued about it, but the romantic in her kind of just wanted to accept it for what it was, a nice gesture.

“Take out or have in?”  
_Dammit he'd been so close to a perfect order._

“Have in,” she piped in, before flashing him a sheepish smile, “for me of course, I’m not suggesting you...should...uuh....we...,” a slightly flustered Felicity guided her glasses back up the bridge of her nose before tapping a finger against her temple.  
“I could,” Oliver replied, surprising both himself and her, “I mean, if you were wanting to.”

**~~~~~**

Felicity watched the veritable stranger with curious eyes.  
There wasn’t anything that set off the alarms she was pretty good at listening to. Yep, Felicity had spent the last 5 years honing in on her “Do not date dicks” mantra since the last one and while she didn’t exactly consider this a date, she needed to go through a quick check.

She looked down at his left hand, _no ring or sign that there had been one recently._  
_Check._  
Her eyes worked up his body, stealing a few moments to admire the large and taut muscles that sat like hills even with his arms relaxed at his side.

 _Moving on.._.A scruff of hair that had grown in neatly and looked maintained, _he was past the age of puberty and cared enough to keep himself looking neat._  
_Check._

She admired his lips for a minute and had already noted his nice white teeth, _personal hygiene, Check._

She bypassed the eyes as quickly as she could because they were so enchantingly blue that Felicity was afraid if she looked into them she might get lost in them and entirely forget what she was doing there in the first place, studying his face.

 _What was she doing there?_  
Felicity remembered when she stumbled onto his brows, there were two, good, but they weren’t overly plucked or waxed or filled in with pencil.

Each to their own, but in Felicity's check list she was not interested in a man that spent countless hours priming and prepping himself. It had been her experience, especially after that one date with the guy who bleached his asshole, that those type of guys were often self centred and egotistical.

But ... _wait, did she even know his name?_  
“Felicity,” she said somewhat randomly as she extended her hand, “you should at least know my name if you have in with me.”

She stapled her lips closed, she wasn’t going to acknowledge just how seedy that had sounded.

  
Oliver shook her hand and smiled, in fact he’d genuinely smiled more this morning than he had in the last few months. _There was just something about her._  
“Oliver,” he couldn’t help but check her hand, _no ring, thank God._  
“We'll have in,” he answered the barista’s long standing question.

They took a number block and chose a table in the far corner of the hipster cafe.  
“Where did you learn to order?” Felicity asked as she slung her back over the bag of her chair.  
“I work nearby,” Oliver shrugged, deciding not to admit that he had ordered some pretty horrendous things the first week he started.  
“At the gym?” Felicity casually nodded to towards the window and out at the gym across the road.

For a second Oliver looked dumbfounded why she would assume that, but after their drinks were delivered to the table and he looked down at his outfit, her assumption made perfect sense.  
“Oh, because of,” he mumbled as he stroked a hand down his chest.  
Felicity tried not to stare but it was pretty impossible not to when his palm pulled the steel grey top tight and exposed the firm slopes of his pectorals.

She sipped her coffee and continued to discretely stare over the rim of the brown mug.  
“I live nearby,” he began to explain, “so I jog to work and shower at the clinic.”  
_Clinic_.  
“You’re a doctor?”  
Felicity could hear her mother screaming in joy from here.

Oliver nodded, it was basically right.  
“Do you work nearby?” Oliver asked after he blew over the top of his drink, watching as Felicity hugged hers with two laced set of fingers.  
“Oh no, I just have...” Felicity snapped her mouth shut, _he didn’t need to know what she was doing, regardless of how responsible and mature it was to have a sexual health check up_ , “...an appointment,” she finished with a sheepish smile.

“So what do you do?”  
Felicity sighed, this question always got her in trouble with the menfolk. Felicity owned her own company, she was featured in magazines and she had a portfolio that would put a lot of wealthy people to shame.

She had worked since the age of 17 to put herself through MIT and claw her way through the ranks until she had earned her stars.

She was an actual genius but some well meaning friends often told her to dumb it down and that most guys would be intimated by that _at least to start off with._

But Felicity had always refused to follow their suggestions, even if it would mean getting past an awkward first date, because if her intellect damaged some guy's manhood then that was his problem. Not hers.

“I own a technology company that specialises in biomechanics,”  
Oliver sat his coffee down before his hands slipped from the side of it and Felicity gulped, _here was the excuse to leave or the underhanded comment about how she must have had help..._ There were so many variants of the same basic premise, sometimes they were hidden beneath good intentions but at the heart of them it was always the same general conclusion – where a man would simply be praised, her success was always trying to be explained.

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Oliver gushed as he instinctively leaned a little closer.  
Felicity touched a finger to her cheek, _it was simmering._  
She was waiting for the ‘for a women' but it never came.  
He seemed genuinely interested.

Oliver sat listening attentively to Felicity as she summarized the trials they were conducting in creating biometric limbs that could, potentially, work off neural signals, just like any other living tissue. He asked questions and offered quiet reassurance that her limited medical experience was paying dividends and that the professional people with whom she had aligned her business were some of the best in their fields, a fact Felicity knew but it was nice to hear all the same.

“Maybe one day we could work together,” Felicity remarked, trying to appear off handed as she stared at the dregs of her coffee cup, despite the fact she had spent 20 minutes trying to find a way to open up to this maybe going _somewhere_.

Oliver’s back straightened against the back of his chair as his head bobbed in a non committal nod, “I mean, I don’t, really practice in that kind of field,” he coughed as he stumbled over words.  
He loved his job, not in any disturbing way, but once women knew it, well... they got weird.

Or worse, they got strangely turned on by it – neither response was particularly great.

“Listen to me, I haven’t even asked what field you’re in,” Felicity chatted, nervously laying her palms on the table top.

_I’m a... God he’d been doing it for years and he still hadn’t found the right way to say it._

The watch on his wrist chipped loudly three times, startling Oliver whose face ended up reminding Felicity of a puppy who’d just stood on the piano.

It took him a few seconds to register it was after 9am.  
He was still in his jogging clothes and he had a patient at 9:30.  
_Shit_.

“I’m so sorry, but I have to go,” he apologised as he blinked profusely, he couldn’t believe how almost 40 minutes had gone by so fast while talking to her.

Felicity reached for her bag and rummaged through it searching for her wallet, “how much was the coffee again?” she asked with her eyes buried in the pockets of her coral Coach bag.

“Ten digits,” Oliver crooned, but he grimaced as soon as it reached his ears.  
“Pardon?” Felicity quizzed.  
“I’m so sorry,” Oliver effused as a slash of red blushed his cheeks, “that was an awful pick up line that sounded a lot more debonair in my head but I realise now it actually sounds quite creepy and I’m so very sorry,” he finished with a slightly awkward laugh.  
_He should definitely leave now._  
  
“Oh,” Felicity snapped to her feet, “you meant my phone number,” she added, tempering the surprise in her tone.  
“Please don’t think...” Oliver blew out a sigh, “I’m just going to...” he nodded towards the door and took one step backwards.  
“Wait,” she reached out, brushing his hand for just a second before she pulled her arm back to her side, “I didn’t say no.”  
“So you, um, are you,” he exhale slowly in an effort to get some coherency back, “are you saying yes?”

Felicity chewed on her lip as she contemplated it.  
Oliver seemed like a good guy, actually a great guy.  
A few failed attempts at dating not so good guys had coloured her belief on whether great guys actually existed. But, if they did and she said no to this one, all that frog kissing was for nothing.

She pulled a pen from her bag and plucked the cap off it with a smile, “I think it’s a yes.”  
Felicity could have offered him one of the business cards in the side pocket of her bag, but if this was destined to be a meet cute to tell her grandchildren, it was damn well going to have her writing her number on a stranger’s hand, _that was romance genre 101._

Oliver offered his hand despite having the coffee receipt in the pocket of his shorts. There was a high likelihood that subconsciously ( _hell, even consciously_ ) he just wanted to feel her touch.

And touch she did.  
Felicity smoothed his palm with the tops of her fingers as she drew his hand closer. Her thumb grazed a vein under the guise of pulling his skin taut. He was warm to the touch but not clammy. She noted the sheer size of it in comparison to hers and decided undoubtedly that his hand could totally eclipse hers if there were, _say, holding them._

She wrote her number in penmanship that was probably the clearest she had ever written. It wasn’t too big, like a beacon of embarrassment on his hand, but it also wasn’t too small so as to be easily forgotten. It was actually pretty damn near perfect.

She considered writing her name underneath the digits but pulled the pen away instead, the test would come if he remembered it.

She touched the ink before she leaned a little closer and instinctively blew on it. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind just how insanely erotic he might find that.

**~~~~~**

Oliver gulped when her slightly warmed breath fanned across the back of his hand. His brain scampered to think of something other than where his mind was heading right now. He felt the low growl at his core followed quickly by a thrumming in his upper thighs.

 _Jesus Christ_  
He felt like that awkward freshmen at high school during health class... you know the one that sprouted an erection during CPR training.

He tried thinking about how his taxes were almost due, but then he imagined her licking the stamp on the envelope, _shit._  
He tried considering where he might go for lunch, but that ended in imagining having her. _Shit_.  
He remembered he needed to call his mother, and the tingle across his thighs started to subside, _thank God._  
He focused on how she was doing do much better and how she had fought so hard... and finally, even though he’d pushed his inseam to it's limit, Oliver was starting to come back to earth.

“There,” Felicity hummed as she drew back to inspect her handiwork.  
The ink was dry and, reluctantly, she let his hand drift from hers.

“So, what’s the acceptable time to wait before I call you?” he asked with a coy grin.  
“You mean it’s not in your Boy Code Manual?” Felicity answered him after a brief chuckle.  
He winked and effused a short laugh, “you’re probably right, I better consult it.”

“It was nice to meet you Felicity,” his hand grazed her elbow in a moment where he considered embracing her but wasn’t sure if he ought to.

Felicity, however, gave the idea less thought as she let her instincts take over and they had her wrap one arm over his shoulder and the other thread around his waist, with her fingers just lightly skimming over the subtly warmed, perhaps a little sweaty, small of his back.

It should be weird, he wasn’t a hugger, but it wasn’t. Not in the slightest.  
His one arm wrapped entirely around her but Oliver was careful not to pull her tightly against him like he had a sudden desire to and when she began to wiggle back, his hand fell away respectfully.

“It was nice to meet you too, Oluh-ver,” she didn't mean to say his name like that, but when it came out sounding like a hybrid between a purr and a growl, she didn’t try to correct it.

He flashed her a charming smile and a soft wave as he slowly backed away, turned and left. Passing the outside of the cafe window Oliver looked in and she waved shyly seconds before he disappeared.

  
Felicity didn’t still the “meeep” that squealed from her lips before she collected her bag and headed for the bathroom.

She set her bag down on the vanity and caught herself smiling in the mirror until the buzz of her phone took her attention, it was Iris.  
“On the record or off?” Felicity answered cheerfully.  
“Are you going to ask me that every time we talk?” Iris groaned before her feigned annoyance turned into a laugh.  
“After that big promotion you got?” Felicity hummed proudly, “yes, yes I am.”  
“Fine, off the record.”  
Felicity checked her lipstick before adding another swipe of the bubblegum pink colour, “proceed.”  
“I called your office this morning, they said you were out.”  
Felicity sighed, remembering why again it was that she was out, here, across town, instead of her cosy little office.  
“I have a gynaecologist appointment,” she replied dryly before she tended to her hair.

Balancing the phone in the crook of her neck she swept her tresses up and combed the sides with her fingers.  
“I thought Shelly was away?” Iris chatted as Felicity continued to smooth down her hair from all angles.  
“She is, but they offered me an appointment with the stand in guy, so I just took it,” Felicity simpered as she banded her blonde hair into an elastic then proceeded to fluff up the messy bun at her crown.  
“Sight unseen?” Iris gaped, “and a guy isn’t that a little weird?”  
Felicity put the phone on speaker and placed it on the vanity beside her bag as she went in search of her mascara.  
“I don't have anything he hasn’t seen before, and besides, they’re all old and quiet. Shelly, bless her, always wants to talk while she has her fingers up me, it’s really not the time to be asking who did my highlights, you know?”

Iris laughed so loudly it echoed off the bathroom wall.  
“Look,” Felicity continued as she brushed the wand of her mascara up her lashes, “I’m going to sit back, spread my legs and check my emails.”  
“So basically me when I was dating Barry.”  
Felicity snorted, jolting the wand into her eyebrow, “Jesus savage Iris.”

“Yet, accurate.”  
Felicity tried not cough up her coffee as she patted the redness from her cheeks.  
“I have to go, but I’ll call you after my appointment,”  
She could hear Iris’ investigative brain ticking over, “because?”  
Felicity's cheeks started to hurt again as her smile grew, “I may have met someone.”

Iris squealed, “details.”  
“After, I promise, but I need to finish powdering my lady parts before some old guy with near sightedness stares up my vagina.”

* * *

  
Felicity found herself riding the elevator to the fifth floor clinic of the medical building humming a song from Hamilton and scrolling through her emails when a text popped up on her screen.

She swiped it open and read it quickly at first, then a second time, slower, word for word.

**It’s Oliver, I’ve consulted the manual and it’s a grey area based on how much you would like to see the girl again. With that in mind, how about a drink tonight?**

Felicity smiled as she tried to conjure up a cute response until the elevator doors _bing-bonged_ the cab’s arrival on the floor.

**Felicity: Well, I’m glad your manual is so progressive. I'm just referencing mine and it says provided your lock screen isn’t a selfie pulling a duck face the invitation can be accepted.**

She pressed send and wandered towards the glass doors embossed with _Overlock Medical Centre – Gynaecology & Obstetrics Department._

She pushed through the doors into the soft lull of orchestral music and the ambient hum of the tropical fish tank and straight up to the reception desk.

“I have a nine-thirty with uh,” Felicity checked her calendar just as another message scrolled across the top of her screen “Dr Queen.”

Felicity didn’t notice the smile that turned up the corners of the older woman's smile, but she did hear her chirpy response, “oh he's a borrow from obstetrics, so he’s very gentle.”

She nodded along, half listening as she opened the message Oliver had just sent through.  
“You can take a seat and fill this out.”  
Felicity blindly took the clipboard from the counter and wandered over to a seat next to a large potted fern just as Oliver’s message filled her phone.

 **Is this okay?**  
Underneath his message was a screen capture of his lock screen, a beach around dusk and a large dog running through the surf.

**Felicity: you just changed that didn’t you? Googled “cute pictures to make a woman swoon”?**  
**Oliver: I swear, scouts honour, that’s my dog. I did try googling that, it just brought up pictures of babies and I thought that might be weird.**  
**Felicity: good call and you have a dog? You just got a whole lot cuter.**  
**Oliver: you think I’m cute?**

She smiled as she filled in her name, contact and insurance details and half skimmed the questionnaire that was always the same.

 **Felicity: I’ll tell you tonight. Did you have somewhere in mind?**  
**Oliver: can I get back to you? My Google search on “best places to take a first date so she’ll tell you you’re cute” is taking some time.**  
  
**Felicity: I look forward to hearing the results. Just text me the address, and say we meet at seven?**  
**Oliver: Perfect, have a great day.**  
**Felicity: You too.**

She sighed happily as she scrawled her signature along the bottom of the form, dated it and stood up. _Today couldn’t have started any better, crazy coffee order and all._

She took the form to the receptionist before almost skipping back to her seat. There was definitely an extra pep in her step that hadn’t been there this morning.  
It was funny how everything was coming together ... _who knew an appointment with a gynaecologist could lead to a date?_

It was funny how fateful that thought was.

* * *

 

Ten minutes later and the receptionist called Felicity's name _Ms Smoak._  
Taking a calming breath Felicity trundled over to receive her instructions.

“Doctor Queen will see you now, down the corridor, third on the left. If you want a nurse to sit in...”  
Felicity waved the suggestion off, she wasn’t an impressionable teen or a virgin that somehow got off on a quick finger plug, she didn’t need a babysitter. This wasn’t her first rodeo.

“Well okay, if you change your mind, just come and ask.”  
“Thank you,” Felicity replied with a smile before she made her way down the hall, counting doors on her left.

The Exam Room 3 sign had been taped over with a paper one that read in bold typeface **Dr O J Queen.**

She knocked, her mind now thinking how she’d quite like an orange juice from the vending machine she passed in the lobby on her way up.

“Come in,” a velvety rich voice, slightly muffled from the door between them, replied to her knock.  
She cracked the door and saw the back of a man in a white coat tapping away on his keyboard, undoubtedly bringing up her notes and Felicity instantly wondered if her sexual heath was ever graded and if so was it a sliding grade or....

“Come in Ms Smoak,” he continued and without the muffle of the door his voice sounded somewhat familiar.

She studied the salt and peppery strands of his dark blonde hair as she stepped deeper into the room.

“Ms Felic...”  
He stopped as his eyes read over the line which he hadn’t looked at before this moment.  
_No, what were the odds that she was...._

He turned around and their reactions were identical.  
Audible gasps escaped from both of them and Felicity fell backwards against the door, slamming it shut.

“Are you okay?” Oliver asked as he leapt up off his chair.  
“I’m fine,” Felicity stammered as she straightened herself up, “but you’re you.”  
“And you’re you,” his crinkled face was almost an exact replica of hers.

“When you said doctor this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” she chortled, blowing out one of those awkward laughs that sounded remarkably close to crying.  
“It's not usually a selling point.”  
Oliver carded his fingers through his freshly showered hair.  
“I can’t see why not, a guy that knows his way around a vagi...” Felicity stapled her mouth shut with her teeth.  
_She wasn’t going there._

“If this is too weird you can request another doctor,” his palms were sweaty and there was a breath caught in his throat that made him sound husky.  
“Why would it be weird?” she laughed nervously “we're both adults.”  
“Right,” his response was shaky, flustered.  
“Both professionals.”  
He nodded, “exactly.”

He gestured at the chair and Felicity floated towards it, sliding her heels against the linoleum floor.  
“So do I...?” she nodded up at the chair.  
“I’ll just ask you a few questions first, then I’ll leave the room for you to get changed.”

Her head bobbed along.  
She knew that.  
_Not her first rodeo._

  
She perched herself on the edge of the beige chair and grinned excessively wide, but there was nothing she could do to rein it in, it was superglued like that.

Oliver settled back into his chair and swivelled around to his computer screen.  
Clearing his throat he asked, “okay, so are you sexually active?”  
“I do yoga,” she jested and immediately regretted, “I’m sorry, I know that’s not what you asked.”  
She almost snorted, but thankfully caught it before it broke free.

“You’re asking if I have, um, are currently...”  
Oliver clicked his pen manically, “if you have a...”  
_Nope he couldn’t make it any less awkward._

“I wouldn’t have said yes to our date if I was seeing someone else,” she replied concisely.  
“About that,” Oliver brushed a finger across his brow, “I guess that’s off.”  
Felicity felt her lips lightly pout.  
“Because?”  
“Patient,” he pointed his pen at her, “Doctor,” pointing it back at him, “huge no-no.”  
“Oh.”  
He gave her a wirily smile and an apologetic shrug, trying to hide his own dismay behind them both.

“No, I’m not currently with someone,” Felicity answered his earlier question.  
_I may have been willing to let this guy get to third base tonight if my date had gone well, but ..._ her brain added.

“Okay,” Oliver sighed as he turned back to the screen and typed in her answer.  
“And the last time you had sex?”  
Felicity squeezed her eyes closed.

_Did the cute guy who she gave her number to this morning really need to know she hadn’t had sex in at least three...five...months?_  
_A drought she was hoping maybe said cute guy might rectify._  
_Said cute guy who was going to sink his fingers into her._  
_Said cute guy who was going to get nice and close to her freshly groomed regions._  
_Said cute guy who she’d imagined doing that under very different circumstances._

“Nope.”  
She clamped her legs closed and jumped off the chair.  
“Nope, too weird, can’t do it.”

“Oh thank God,” Oliver declared as he expelled a heavy sigh, “I mean,” he coughed, dialling it back, “I understand Ms Smoak.”  
“So, I’m just going to...” she nodded towards the door.  
“Your regular doctor will be back in three weeks, so...”  
She tucked loose hair behind her ear, “right, I can wait. In fact, it’s probably better.”  
“Right,” he readily agreed, “just see reception on your way out.”  
“Mmhmm, mmmhmmm.”  
Two more steps towards the door.  
“So you’re not my...”  
He shook his head.  
“And I’m not your....”  
“Nope.”  
The relief on both of their faces was obvious.

“So if you’re not my doctor and I’m officially not your patient...” a smile grew across her painted lips as she tugged down on the door handle.  
His eyes honed in on hers, watching as her smile bled up to them.  
“...I'll see you tonight at seven,” she finished before she scurried from the room like a middle schooler who’d just passed her crush one of those _yes/no_ notes.

And Oliver was left smiling stupidly to himself.  
Until his phone buzzed.

**Felicity: I have the funniest story to tell you tonight. How about we make it dinner as well as a drink?**  
**Oliver: you read my mind.**

  
**THE END.**

 

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, I ended it *****there*****  
> But that's the fun isn't it? ;)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading, xox.
> 
> The writer and reader pairing is symbiotic, so let me know what you think (whatever form that takes).
> 
> I write the Queen's English (with a few exceptions).
> 
> Twitter/Tumblr @someonesaidcake


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